


Sometimes to Win, You’ve Got to Sin

by CitrusVanille



Series: I Do Confess, It's The Mess That Feels So Right [7]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Evil, Boy-Who-Lived Neville Longbottom, Kissing, M/M, Slytherin Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-11-23 13:16:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18152345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CitrusVanille/pseuds/CitrusVanille
Summary: It’s possible this is becoming a habit.





	Sometimes to Win, You’ve Got to Sin

It’s possible this is becoming a habit, Harry thinks vaguely in the corner of his mind not currently occupied. It’s a very small corner, the rest of him too busy with the feel and taste of the boy pressed fully against him. He’s warm everywhere they’re touching, lips to chests to thighs, his fingers twisted roughly in Longbottom’s hair, Longbottom’s hands snug against his hips, under his robes, palms hot even through the fabric of Harry’s trousers.

Were Harry more interested in thinking about it, which he isn’t even when he’s not more pleasantly engaged, he might wonder how this happened, or why. It’s the kind of thing his dad would do, but Harry tends to be more like his father, unconcerned about the details as long as he gets what he wants. Whether Harry pulled Longbottom into this dusty storage room, or Longbottom pulled him, or why they ran into each other in a corridor neither of them probably should have been in, well, the end result is this, Longbottom’s mouth under his, urgent as his fingertips press hard into Harry’s hipbones, the soft sounds between them making Harry’s breath stutter.

“Fuck, Potter,” Longbottom gasps, pulling away just enough to pant against Harry’s cheek, hot and wet against Harry’s skin.

A shiver goes down Harry’s spine at the sensation, and he tugs at Longbottom’s hair until they’re kissing again, hard and a little frantic.

“Wait, Potter, I –” Longbottom tries to get out between kisses, but he’s not waiting, either, uses his grip to pull Harry more firmly against him, shifting them both in search of friction.

“Shut up,” Harry tells him, no venom in the words, just a little desperate as they press closer together.

“No, wait,” Longbottom tears his mouth away. His eyes are dark, pupils blown, there’s a flush high on cheeks and across the bridge of his nose, and he looks like it’s actually paining him to put distance between them, but there’s a different kind of tension in his face, as well, and it’s that which makes Harry stop, wait.

“What?” he demands, irritated, but instinctively quiet.

Longbottom lets go of Harry with one hand, holds it up, head cocked to one side, listening. “Did you hear something?” he asks softly.

Harry goes completely still. For a long moment there’s no sound but their ragged, overloud breathing.

The shriek of laughter that breaks the stillness makes them both jerk abruptly away from each other, fingers untangling rapidly from clothes and hair.

“The fuck is going on?” Harry hisses as another peeling laugh rings out, followed by the sound of running footsteps in the corridor.

“How should I know?” Longbottom asks, voice low. He tugs on his robes, runs both hands through his own hair, trying to put himself into some semblance of order.

Harry rolls his eyes at Longbottom’s efforts, but copies him anyway. “I’ll go first,” he says when he’s as sorted as he’s going to get, and doesn’t wait for Longbottom to agree or argue, just moves carefully over to the door and listens closely, making sure there’s no noise in the immediate vicinity. Satisfied that there’s no one waiting to pounce on him the moment he walks into the open, he pulls the door open just far enough to slide out. He doesn’t bother to look back, just shuts the door behind him and heads off down the corridor, tucking his hands casually into his pockets as he goes.


End file.
